Chapter 17

“Mr. Newton? I’m a police officer. I’d like to talk to you about Jonathan Watts,” he called out.

Nothing. Then he heard a door slam against something. It sounded as if it was at the back of the house. He raced around, getting there just in time to see someone disappear down the alley. He started after them, heard the roar of a car engine, and got to the alley in time to see brake lights as a car made the turn onto the street, heading away from the house. All he got off the plates was A6.

With not enough of a description of the car to call it in, he returned to the house. The back door stood open. Drawing his gun, he entered cautiously, even though he was certain no one was there. At least not conscious, and maybe not alive.

He discovered he was correct on the latter count. The body of a blond man was sprawled on the sofa, one hand trailing on the floor—a gun lying next to it.